keep your powder dry
by genieforyourworld
Summary: Twin Paradox Slayers theory/ He is not his father's son. — Sting, Rogue, NaLu & GaLe.
1. A Mother's Love

**Disclaimer: I do not own Fairy Tail.  
I've always loved the idea of Sting and Rogue being NaLu and GaLe babies, so to see it boom in popularity thanks to a few amazing fanartists makes my heart flutter. I wasn't sure how I could get it to work with the canon material, but I tried. And even if doesn't turn out to be true, oh well. So here, enjoy some crack theory drabbles! **

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**one. a mother's love**

Her son is perfect.

Hardly two hours old, but he is already her world.

_(It doesn't feel like it is dying anymore.)_

He is soft, quiet, and pink. Eyes closed, tucked into the crook of her arm and held to her breast. His small fingers have a light (but it is strong and grasping for such a small person) on one of hers. They are lucky, she thinks. So lucky to have made it, to have been blessed with such a beautiful baby boy despite the roar of a dragon and cries of battle that echo outside.

She tries to picture how he will look when he is older. Like Natsu, with a finely shaped jaw and fierce in the eyes. Or perhaps like Jude, with a posture that is proud and strong. Her own mother's shade blonde hair is already showing through in a small tuft at the top of his head.

Like most children born after the summer X791, he was not planned and they were unmarried. But for Lucy there is no regret in bringing this child into the world_. It would be dangerous, a huge risk,_ they had said. _For her, the child, and everyone else on their side._

Another mouth to feed. One more bath to give. An extra burial (or maybe two, if the worst were to happen).

But she is not the first mother of war, and she will certainly not be the last. Her mind drifts to Levy, wonders if she is safe. _Of course she is,_ Lucy smiles to herself. Gajeel would never allow anything to happen to her or their own unborn child.

Erza peers through the door of the bedroom in their makeshift home, a small abandoned shack of a place whose owners were long gone. She too looks tired and exhausted _(but she'll hold, stay on her feet, always does – she glues us all together)_ however there is a sparkle of affection that glitters at the sight of mother and babe. "Feeling better?" she asks quietly.

Lucy answers with a smile she cannot contain as she returns her gaze to her child, "Yeah. We're fine."

Erza steps closer to the bed and kisses the top of Lucy's head softly before she starts cooing over the sleeping new-born, "You have visitors already, aren't you a popular little man?"

Her attention turns back to Lucy. "Do you want to see them now? I think they're just about fed up with Natsu."

The new mother laughs gently, trying not to disturb him. She has a good idea of what her partner has been doing given the huge grin that had plastered itself on his face and never faded even as he had left her to rest. Or from the loud proclamations of "I'm a dad! I AM A DAD!" that had risen from down the hall not too long ago. And how unaffected his joy had been even after Gray had thrown a rattle at his face.

Lucy hums an answer as she gently rocks her little boy. Her mind does not even wonder to question who might be here, and at such an ungodly hour (Erza didn't seem worried, and Lucy unconsciously trusts her judgement without any fault). She is too preoccupied with cradling the most precious thing she has ever had, praying that he'll remain beautiful and unscathed and loved for the rest of his life. A promise she'll give her remaining arm, her legs, her_ life_ to see through. Even if that means that one day she will have to let go of his hand.

When Levy bounds through the door calling her name Lucy looks up speechless and surprised. Her best friend locks her arms around her neck in a close hug. For a split moment Lucy attempts to reach her free arm out to pull her closer. But she quickly remembers it's not there, and she can't let go of her son.

"He is beautiful," she hears whispered into her ear, and all Lucy can do is bury her face into the side of Levy's to hide the tears that are threatening to fall.

They pull apart and smile brightly at one another – words are not needed. Levy hasn't looked this happy in a long time. Her pregnancy is noticeable now and she's glowing as a mother should despite the difficulties and struggles of the world in flames that has entrapped them all.

Their children will grow up together as a family with as good a life as they can give them. Even if they can't push each other on a swing or run around a lush green park, at least they will have one another to rely on. It is dreams and hopes for their children that binds these two women together and has kept them sane over the years.

Lucy can hear Natsu and Gajeel bantering just outside the room. They threaten to take one another on, and the girls share a knowing look. They won't fight, but this is _normal. _Just like how things once were a long time ago. It is their way of coping, and it makes their partners feel at ease.

(But if Levy has a son, they will _not_ be having a similar relationship to that of their fathers'. It is a mutual agreement they made a long time ago. A second set of bickering buffoons would be intolerable.)

Levy leans in and rubs the tears from her good friend's face gently, beaming with shared joy, brushing messily long golden locks out of Lucy's face. _She will make an incredible mother when the time comes._

"So have you finally decided on a name?" she asks excitedly, staring with wonder at the child.

Lucy focuses her attention back to the baby stirring in her arms as they chat. He looks up at her soft and loving gaze, following the sound her voice while her heart fills elation because he can recognise her and feel the unconstrained adoration that is for him and him alone.

There are tears running down her cheeks, but her eyes are filled with love. Lucy grins and introduces her son.

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**Notes:** Next will be something more Rogue based – I want to try and keep a fair balance between the boys. The characters this is listed under will change accordingly with whoever has the spotlight in the most recent story. And I'm super excited about writing more for this!


	2. Empty Shelves

**Disclaimer: I do not own Fairy Tail.  
I had wanted to write this earlier, but then stuff happened. And as a result I may or may not have forgotten how I had planned on ending this one. But I hope this one turned out decent enough.  
**

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two. empty shelves**

His mother has a book.

_Just that one._ She often tells him with a sad, regretful smile that a long time ago she had _hundreds_. He finds that hard to imagine because this single book she shares with him is the only one he has ever seen.

"_Hundreds upon hundreds of books piled high and low. Tidy and neat against the west-facing wall. Cluttered stacks balancing on the floor. Several abandoned half open or dog-eared on the bed."_

They don't make books anymore. Stories have to come from your head or another's mouth. In the world this small boy knows one cannot be sure what is true experience or exaggerated make believe.

She teaches him to read using this book. The cursive marks become familiar to him and are given meanings. It's not very useful since there are lots of words not written down, words he knows to speak but would never be able to recognise on a page. However, to have something that connects him – binds him – to her is more than enough reason to want to learn and burn the shapes of the ink into his memories.

"You are your father's son," he is informed frequently. Everyone looks at him and sees a smaller, thinner, weaker Gajeel Redfox. They expect him to be great too and become a mirror image. It won't happen, though. The father listens quietly while pretending he's not, the son isn't like that. The son, on the other hand, throws his full attention himself into the stories and will ask for more. Personally, he likens himself to _her_. One day, he hopes, they'll compare him to his mother because she is the strongest, smartest person he knows. It's not fair that the legends never talk about _her _when she is every bit as magical and wonderful.

His father doesn't have to worry about being _forgotten_.

When she leaves for the surface, or goes out to fight, or just disappears for days on end, he holds onto the book very carefully. She treasures it, and so does he. The hard cover, he imagines, was once the same shade as her skin after a bath rather than muddy and tested. The pages, clean and new instead of yellow and torn. He will not let it decay any further. It is only fair that he too tries to protect something precious, just as his parents do every day.

It is a hard job. Often, _he_ will take his turn with it. Or well, Auntie Lucy will take her turn to use it (_he_ has an unquenchable thirst to watch battles rather than listen to stories) which is only right because they are _her_ stories. His own mother merely wrote them down due to her neater, more eligible, _prettier_ handwriting.

_He_ would toss it into a fire if given the chance, leave it to be trampled on, abandon it in the presence of one of the babies who might tear or rip or ruin the words Levy's son so desperately loves. _He _is too careless,and one day that carelessness is going to _destroy_ him (or so his father says).

There are lots of things the two boys share (and usually he doesn't mind, he should not complain or kick up a fuss because it is all their parents can afford to give them other than their unconditional love) but this is the one thing he wants to keep for just himself and his mother.

He loves the feel of her arms around him as she pulls him onto her lap, when she brushes the hair from his forehead and kisses the smooth skin. Her touch is warm and makes him tingle all over. He kisses her back. On the cheek, because that is as high as he can reach when he tilts his head up. It makes her laugh brilliantly. Radiant like the sun, his father says. But he almost never sees it so he can't really compare. He thinks it cannot be as beautiful as her.

"Time for bed, I think," she says when he starts to rubs his eyes tiredly.

"Story first?"

"I knew you would say that," she chuckles and opens the story book he hadn't noticed was in her possession.

That evening she reads his favourite for the umpteenth time – the one about a young man who despite his reluctance for it all, travelled through time, slayed a dragon or two, almost lost himself, and helped save the world.

The boy closes his eyes and falls asleep long before she reaches the ending.

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**Notes:** I want to see Rogue as a kid already. I bet he was the cutest thing ever.


End file.
